At the End of the World
The crushing knights wore iron
fabric,
and sat upon high stallions with
clicking lips.
They rode upon torn ships
on a sea of confusion.
They steered their sinking, marbled
ferries into oblivion,
this army with no weapons.
They will forever be dead in dreams,
and will convey no more ancient
religions.
They left cathedral shells,
spoils of an immense war.
Their absurd heresy,
their breaches recommending funereal
forecasts,
now trapped in a web of obscurity.
The ewe withstood the ram,
and the sentient rot
of insurrection and darkness
eventually dissipated.
All that remains is
an intrepid philosopher,
wielding a commonsense
impulse,
standing on an aging banner,
at this,
the end of the world.
Linda
Imbler
Linda Imbler’s poetry collections include five published
paperbacks: “Big Questions, Little Sleep,” “Big Questions, Little Sleep” second
edition (expanded with 66 additional poems), Lost and Found,” “Red Is The
Sunrise,” and “Bus Lights, Travel Sights.” Soma Publishing
has published her three e-book collections, “The Sea’s Secret Song,”
“Pairings,” a hybrid of short fiction and poetry, and “That Fifth
Element.” Examples of Linda’s poetry and a listing of publications can be found
at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com.
In addition to writing, she helps her husband, a Luthier, build acoustic
guitars in Wichita, Kansas, U.S.A.
Tags:
Poetry
Haven't we felt this way in the past five months. No matter where you from on the planet I think Art speaks to the soul. While too many of us speak to the wind. Poets are needed and wanted.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Stanislaw, for reading and commenting on the poem.
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